TMLST C6

Chapter 6. An Unexpected Truth (1)

Aaron hesitated for a moment, a troubled expression crossing his face, before accepting with thanks. It hadn’t been intentional, but even to himself, the idea seemed brilliant, and he broke into a bright smile.

“If you ever wish for more, just say the word. I have more than enough flower tea to offer you, Your Grace.”

Three days had passed since Aaron returned from the Rier Empire.

“Hmm.”

Aaron skimmed over Elia’s letter, written in neat, elegant handwriting. He had expected something more delicate and girlish, but instead, the script carried a surprising maturity. Finding it somewhat unexpected, he read it again more carefully.

“Sir Aaron, do you have a fiancée? Today I overheard the maids talking about engagements—barons, marquesses, and all sorts of titles—and it suddenly made me think of you. If you do, she must surely be a remarkable person.”

“Fiancée.”

Aaron murmured the word several times under his breath.

Having already resolved to devote himself to his country, he had never seriously considered marriage. The safety of Her Highness Lote was his foremost priority. Even if he were to marry, he would inevitably neglect his household. If that were the case, he believed it better not to marry at all.

After finishing the letter, he carefully folded it and placed it back into its envelope. It was now time to write a reply.

As he looked at the stationery Elia had sent, he recalled her words from their parting.

‘I’ll choose colors that suit you when I write to you.’

True to her word, the envelope was black, and the paper within was gold. Where on earth had she found such materials? Of course, as an imperial princess, it was to be expected—but he couldn’t help wondering how much it must have cost.

If the princess had taken such care, failing to match that effort might reflect poorly—perhaps even affecting Lote.

With a sigh, Aaron procured a pink envelope and pale blue paper, then began writing his reply slowly. Having always used only the cheapest yellowish paper, this was the first indulgence of his life, and his hand trembled slightly.

“I do not have a fiancée.”

Of all her questions, that was the first he answered.

“Does Your Imperial Highness have a fiancée?”

After writing just two sentences, Aaron’s pen came to a halt.

Would that be rude?

He had never been curious about such matters before, and now he found himself hesitating. Was it appropriate to ask so directly? Did he even have the right to wonder about her engagement? Surely, if she had one, rumors would already be circulating.

Crumpling the paper, he discarded it and took out a new sheet, starting over from the beginning. It would be wasteful, but he couldn’t send something that might come across as impolite.

“I do not have a fiancée. Is there a young nobleman you hold dear, Your Imperial Highness?”

Even as he wrote it, Aaron felt it was unlike him—but he left it as it was. The rest of the letter was as usual: polite inquiries about her well-being, brief accounts of what had happened while awaiting her reply, and nothing more.

For Lote’s sake, he needed to maintain a connection with Princess Elia of the Rier Empire. She was the only person who had made it possible for Lote to set foot there.

The following day, upon receiving the letter, Elia opened the pink envelope and unfolded the pale blue paper within.

She hadn’t expected him to take her words about matching colors seriously—yet he had. Imagining Aaron choosing colors that suited her made her heart flutter.

He could have simply chosen gold for safety’s sake, yet he had picked a pink envelope. When she first saw it, she had nearly burst out laughing and had to restrain herself.

“What did I write again?”

Recalling the contents of the letter she had sent, she gazed at his handwriting—upright yet free-flowing. Ah, she had asked about a fiancée.

In the original story, there wasn’t much information about Aaron, so she had worried there might be a fiancée who could become an obstacle between Lote and him. If Lote had been his fiancée, that would have been ideal—but the fact that he had none was both disappointing and relieving.

What surprised her more was that Aaron had asked her the same question in return.

A young nobleman you hold dear?

That kind of interest wasn’t unwelcome. While it was true she needed to build some rapport with Aaron to maintain a link with Lote, it also felt as though she were indulging her own desires a bit too much.

What should she write?

“I, too, do not have a fiancée, but there is a young nobleman I hold dear. He is incredibly dependable and kind. Though he does not know my feelings, I admire him from afar.”

If she mentioned harboring feelings for someone, perhaps he would open up about his feelings for Lote. Creating the common ground of unrequited love might help close the distance between them, even if only a little.

“Hm…”

“It feels a little embarrassing to share something I’ve never told anyone else with you, Sir Aaron.”

A touch of modesty was necessary, after all. As a princess, failing to display such grace might be seen as lacking refinement…

Making such justifications to herself, she finished the letter.

She had been surprised enough when he sent the first letter, but she never imagined they would come to exchange such personal conversations. Though he seemed blunt on the outside, perhaps he had a more delicate, almost girlish sensitivity within?

She welcomed that kind of contrast—especially if it was something shown only to her.

At this rate, who knows? He might subtly reveal his feelings for Lote.

She didn’t understand what had prompted him to treat her so kindly, but since this moment was hers to enjoy, she decided not to overthink it.

Knock, knock—

Just as she was sealing the envelope with melted wax, a knock sounded at the door, drawing her gaze.

Wondering who it might be, she glanced at the maid, who shook her head, equally unaware. For an uninvited guest to appear while her nurse was away…

After a moment’s hesitation, she opened the door—and found a familiar-looking man standing before her. Light purple hair, blue eyes. It was Marquis Livius Paolo.

A young man who had become the head of his house at an early age, Livius was one of Llewellyn’s close aides—an ambitious figure who would later take part in Llewellyn’s tyranny.

“You are…?”

She had heard a brief explanation about Livius from her nurse—just his name and general appearance, nothing detailed enough to explain why he had come.

Perhaps displeased by her response, Livius’s smiling expression twisted.

“Have you forgotten how to greet me warmly?”

At her indifferent reaction—as though she were facing an unwelcome guest—his expression remained visibly displeased. No matter that he was a marquis, his rank was still below that of a princess. Yet he behaved as though she were the one being rude.

Their gazes met in silence until Elia, growing weary, looked away. A faint cough followed.

“Even if our engagement has been broken, isn’t this a bit much?”

Engagement? Broken?

Relief came first—but she had been engaged to him? What on earth was he talking about?

More unsettling was the fact that Livius seemed genuinely convinced she remembered him. It was fortunate he didn’t suspect her memory loss, yet it still left her uneasy.

“Pardon? Ah, no—that’s not it. Please don’t misunderstand.”

Unsure how to respond, she spoke cautiously. His unexpected visit—unwelcome at that—left her at a loss for what to say.

The realization that Elia had once been Livius’s fiancée only made her head spin.

“It’s not something to discuss here… May I come in?”

Without waiting for an answer, Livius placed a hand on the slightly open door, pushing it further as if refusal were not an option.

“…Please, come in.”

Reluctantly, she stepped aside. It seemed her legs would give out before his did if she continued to block him, so she let him enter. The maid hurried to prepare tea as Elia faced Livius, who wore a faint, knowing smile.

“What is it you wished to discuss?”

Livius was not an unattractive man. In fact, he was the sort who would receive endless praise for his looks. But knowing his true nature made him difficult to tolerate.

“There’s no need to be so stiff. I heard that Your Imperial Highness had regained consciousness and came out of concern. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

If that were all, there would have been no need for him to enter her room. She should have made him remain outside—even if she collapsed mid-conversation. It would have been far less humiliating.

That had been her mistake.

“Didn’t you say you had something to discuss? I doubt you came all this way merely to ask after my well-being…”

Her tone came out sharper than intended, but Livius only smiled, as though understanding—almost as if he believed she still had lingering feelings for him.

Surely Elia didn’t truly love this man?

If she could speak with the original Elia, she would scold her for having such poor judgment in men.

“Ah… I thought perhaps I might share some responsibility for Your Imperial Highness collapsing recently.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. As you know, Marquis Livius, my health has always been frail.”

If Elia had collapsed before she herself entered this body, then it made sense why the nurse had never mentioned the engagement. Whatever the reason for her collapse, if it was related to Livius, it was not something worth bringing up.